


Future Made of Sand

by J (j_writes)



Category: Easy Allies RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-29 05:39:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8477383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_writes/pseuds/J
Summary: "Co-op buddies for life means for life, man.  Not just until shit starts getting real.“





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [fictional characters based on the internet personas of actual people, doing entirely fictional things.]
> 
> (assorted pieces of Vague Apocalypse AU)

He wakes to the sound of Huber whispering his name frantically into the darkness, and his fingers close around the knife under his pillow as he sits bolt upright, looking around for the threat.

“Whoa!” Huber startles backward from apparently leaning down over Brad’s chest. "Hey, whoa.“ He waves his hands in surrender. "It’s just me!”

Brad breathes out slowly, letting his hand drop to his side. “ _Fuck_ , Mike,” he says, feeling the tension drain out of him, leaving nothing but exhaustion. "What the hell was that?“

“Just wondered if you were asleep.”

“Jesus, Mike, of course I’m asleep. What else – ” but he cuts himself off at the naked worry in Huber’s expression. "Hey.“ He drops the knife, hearing it clatter to the floor beside him, and he reaches his hand out to cup against the side of Huber’s face. His fingers are smudged with dirt, but so is Huber’s jaw, so he touches him anyway, sliding his hand around to the back of his neck and pulling him in. "I’m okay. We’re okay.”

Huber surges forward, wrapping himself around Brad, squeezing some of the breath out of him as he buries his face against Brad’s neck. “Yeah,” he says, voice sounding dull and unHuberlike, so Brad rubs his back, sighing.

“We’re fine, dude,” he says. "We’re gonna be fine.“

"You don’t know that.”

“No,” Brad agrees, “but what’s the alternative? Being fucking miserable?” He pretends to give a big yawn. “Boring.” Huber lets out a choked laugh. He’s quiet for a long moment, pulling back a little as Brad rearranges himself, settling back down onto the ground, and when he lies down next to him and tosses an arm across Brad’s chest, he’s staring at him intently. ” _What?_ “ Brad finally asks.

“You’d probably be better off, you know.” Huber shrugs, faking casual. "On your own.“

Brad lets out a laugh at the absurdity of it. "Yeah, okay, I’m gonna, what? Send you off into the wasteland or some shit? Give me a break, Mike.” He drags him closer. "Co-op buddies for life means for _life_ , man. Not just until shit starts getting real.“

Huber sighs. "Most kills, most deaths, though. I’m gonna forget to be careful someday, and – ”

“No,” Brad says sternly, turning to look at him, “you’re not. This isn’t some video game, Mike, you know better than that. Just…don’t do anything stupid, okay? That’s all you have to do. Not do something dumb and fucking…trying to be heroic or whatever. Just…stay alive. With me. That’s it, that’s all you’ve gotta do.” He pulls Huber against him, burying his face in the prickly softness of his hair. "Better off without you. Jesus.“ He presses a rough kiss to the side of his head. "You’re all I _have_ , dude.”

“That…probably shouldn’t be reassuring, huh?”

Brad laughs quietly. "World’s a fucked up place,“ he says. "Whatever gets you through the day.”

“Yeah,” Huber agrees vaguely, and he falls silent for long enough that Brad thinks he’s drifted off, until he abruptly says, “You, usually.”

“What?” Brad drags his eyelids open again, so close to falling back asleep.

“What gets me through the day.”

Brad lets out a low laugh. "Yeah,“ he agrees, and lets his eyes fall closed again, feeling the warmth of Huber against his side seeping through their clothes. "You too, Mike. You too.”

He falls asleep like that, one of his hands tucked around Huber’s side, the other wrapped around his knife beside them, just in case.


	2. Chapter 2

Brad’s back was to the door as he gathered his gear, ammo clicking too loud into his guns, boots clattering to the floor in front of him, and as Brandon leaned against the doorway, waiting, he could see Brad’s hands were shaking.

“Hey,” he said quietly, and Brad stilled, setting down the gun in his hands, not turning. Brandon crossed the room in a few steps, covering Brad’s fingers with his own, watching him let out a slow breath. “He’s going to be fine.”

“He left.” Brad’s voice broke on the words, one of his hands flipping over to grip Brandon’s painfully, and Brandon didn’t react, let him hold on as hard as he needed to. “He didn’t even wake me up. He took his shotgun and he just - ”

“He wanted to protect you.”

“He’s a fucking idiot.”

Brandon laughed, but it came out sounding choked, forced. “Yeah,” he agreed, “but he’s our idiot.”

Brad looked up at that, a twisted smile pulling at his lips. “Yeah?”

“Hell yeah.” Brad’s grip loosened around Brandon’s hand, but he didn’t let go, turning toward him instead. “I’ll go with you,” Brandon offered, and he could see that Brad knew he meant it, but he shook his head anyway, as Brandon had known he would.

“You’ve got the others to think of. Mike’s…” He trailed off, seeming to lack the words.

“He’s family,” Brandon said, nodding with understanding. “I know. I just - ” He hesitated, taking in the shaky way Brad was breathing, the damp hair sticking to his forehead, and he drew him into his arms, half expecting him to resist, but Brad melted against him instantly, hands coming up to tangle into the back of Brandon’s shirt. Brandon closed his eyes, holding Brad close, and finally said against the side of his neck, “Just…come back alive, okay?” Brad nodded wordlessly , and Brandon pulled back, holding him at arm’s length, looking at him seriously. “I mean it.” His voice was low, hard, a tone that Brad effortlessly responded to, and his eyes snapped up to Brandon’s.

“I will.” His voice was stronger, and his fingers were steady as he strapped his gun to his side. “We’ll see you soon,” he promised, and leaned in to press a soft kiss to Brandon’s jaw as he passed him, touching a hand lightly to his chest, letting Brandon reach up and clasp his own fingers over it for a moment before he was gone, the door opening and slamming with a sudden howling of wind and an equally abrupt hush.

Brandon stood alone in the room, and he didn’t need to look down to know that his hands were trembling.


End file.
